I need to strike first, so here.
I finished my shower and came out of the bathroom, partially clothed.
Eleanor: "Wow. You really do look like Superman."
Me: "You mean my body?"
Eleanor: "No. Just your hair. I'm going to call Emilee and tell her she did a good job on your haircut."
And I tell you that in defense of this conversation we also had:
Eleanor: "I'm trying to laugh like that one surfer fish on Spongebob. Nahh Ahh Ahh. Nah Ah."
Me: "That's not very good. It kind of sounds like a goofy witch or someone doing a bad impression of a neighing horse."
Eleanor: "You try it."
Me: "I think I can do it, better than you anyway, but my throat is sore."
Eleanor: "You're rude. And don't say you can do it better than me if you won't do it."
Me: "I know I can do it better than you. I just don't think you have the pipes for it. Just like I can't sing like Mariah Carey."
Eleanor: "Do it!"
Me: "No. I'll have to do it loud and the kids will wake up."
Eleanor: "You're mean. You tell me I sound like a dumb witch or an ugly horse. See, I'm going to start my own blog just to counter your blog and tell everybody all the mean things you say to me."
Me: "Are you going to call it Swims-with-fins?"
Eleanor: "It would be Swims-without-fins, dummy."
Me: "I thought Swims-WITH-fins would be the opposite. Maybe, Doesn't-swim-with-fins. Anyway, can we just end this conversation now?
Eleanor: "Ooooh. You're a mean, mean man."
Me: "If I was as mean as you say I am then I would have told you to shut up 15 minutes ago."
And just so the world knows: She used to threaten to break my fingers when I did the "Whatever" W-sign at her with my hands.